


And the Tale of Ezekiel Jones

by orphan_account



Series: All That Glitters [1]
Category: The Librarians (TV 2014)
Genre: Angst, Backstory, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, also a few headcanons from the people over at tumblr and me, but not anywhere near my first fic haha, my first fic in the librarians fandom, takes into account what we've learned on the show, the backstory of Ezekiel Jones to be exact
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-06
Updated: 2017-01-06
Packaged: 2018-09-15 07:28:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9224927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Ezekiel Jones was many things before he was a Librarian.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Here it is. The story that's been sitting in the back of my mind, in one form or another, for a bit now. Hopefully I can go back to writing MacGyver fics after this.
> 
> I have Ezekiel's age when he receives his second letter and actually becomes a Librarian as twenty, almost twenty-one, as John Kim's age was right about there when the first season was being filmed. Some liberties have been taken with Ezekiel's backstory specifics, such as the place he was born- I put it as Melbourne, Australia, again like his actor. However, the larger things- stealing at a young age, working for MI6- are all in here.
> 
> Huge kudos to both fyeahthelibrarians (for helping me with the exact text of the letter) and likeaustralianotcrosby (for having amazing thoughts about Ezekiel Jones that helped me write this fic) over on tumblr. Thanks, guys!
> 
> Warnings: implied/referenced child abuse (nothing sexual), homelessness of a minor, some violence. Overall, nothing too graphic.

It's a simple mission. Grab the artifact from the case in the museum, head back to the Annex, bug Jenkins for a bit, then head home.

Stone doesn't really expect it all to go sideways quite so quickly.

Jones is opening the case when the alarm goes off. He shrugs in confusion when Stone asks him what happened, and with no time to lose, they grab the artifact and get out of there as fast as they can. However, as they make their way through the Back Door, Jake hears Jones yelp from behind him and feels him stumble against the older man.

Stone turns to make sure the younger man is okay, and is met with the disconcerting sight of the Australian falling. Reacting quickly, Jake grabs him before he hits the floor- and that's the last thing he knows before everything goes black.

* * *

When Jake opens his eyes, he's in the middle of an obviously poor part of some city. A kid runs in front of him, and Jake takes a step back- and walks right into a familiar face.

It's Jones, and the kid's got a haunted look on his face that doesn't seem quite right. Jake approaches the younger man warily. "Jones? Ezekiel?"

At the sound of his name, Ezekiel's eyes flit to the older man's. "You're- you're here?"

Jake rolls his eyes. "Yeah, obviously. Where are we?"

Ezekiel stares around for a moment before answering. "I think- I think we're in my memories."

Jake almost laughs at the idea, but then he remembers some of the stranger missions they've been sent on. It honestly wouldn't be that much of a stretch. Ezekiel is proven right the next moment as another kid walks past them, his eyes on the ground as he kicks at the dust. He's perhaps nine or ten, and he's wearing old, ratty clothes and shoes that are so full of holes that they've been taped back together.

He is, although ten years younger than the current version, unmistakably Ezekiel Jones.

Beside him, Ezekiel stiffens. _Man_ , Stone thinks, _that's gonna get confusing._

He decides to call the past version of Ezekiel 'Jones,' and the current version 'Ezekiel.'

Jones continues walking, and Ezekiel follows him, that haunted look still on his face. Jake, in turn, follows Ezekiel, taking in the unfamiliar sights as he goes. He sees a sign that identifies his current location as Melbourne, Australia.

It suddenly hits Jake that this is Ezekiel's childhood. That small, scrawny, ragged kid is Ezekiel, somewhere around ten years ago.

The two men stop in front of a house when Jones suddenly turns into it's sidewalk. It's tiny, its roof sagging in, and it barely seems hospitable. Jones grabs the mail from the front porch before he enters, and holds up an envelope that is addressed to him. The kid hikes up his pant leg and tucks the letter underneath it, then heads inside when he's sure no sign of the paper is visible.

Jake frowns to himself. Ezekiel is silent. They follow Jones as he enters the house.

Inside, the sound of shouting becomes clear. There's a teary-eyed woman with a duffle bag by the door. She's shouting at a middle-aged man who seems furious. With one final, unintelligible shout, she grabs the bag and walks out the door.

She doesn't even glance at Jones.

The man runs a hand through his hair, then explosively slams his palm down on the table. Jones flinches, and the floor squeaks beneath him. The man glances over, then scowls. "Well? Show me what you got today."

Jones steps forward- carefully, warily- and, after setting the mail down on the table, sticks a hand into each of his pockets. What he brings out both surprises Jake and doesn't.

The boy sets fistfuls of cash on the table, along with a few trinkets and one particularly nice necklace that looks like it's worth a few hundred dollars.

The man picks it up, studying it. "I suppose you've done okay today. You can go."

Jones turns, and- through a complete fluke- he slips. He scrambles to his feet, but the man- who must be his father, now that Stone thinks about it- has seen something. "What's under your pant leg, boy?"

Jones stares at his father with an expression of terror on his face, and the man takes a menacing step forward. With trembling hands, the boy brings the letter out and offers it to the man. Jones' father takes it and golden letters appear as a voice sounds- it's an invitation to interview for a prestigious position at the Metropolitan Public Library.

Jake realizes in disbelief that this kid- this scrawny, underfed, terrified kid- is being invited to be a Librarian at his age. Beside him, Ezekiel turns. He grabs Jake's arm as his father begins to shout.

Jake follows the younger man out of the house, catching the first words of Ezekiel's father as he tears up the letter. "You think this is for you? This was a mistake, boy. People like you don't get invitations to libraries!"

The yelling continues, muffled by the distance and wood between them, as Jake and Ezekiel stand outside. Ezekiel's staring at the ground, his shoulders hunched. When the yelling reaches its pitch, he flinches ever-so-slightly.

Jake feels sick.

Jones dashes out of the house, and Jake can't help but ask, "Did you ever go back?"

Ezekiel shakes his head as he stares after Jones. "No."

The scenery around them ripples, then fades to black, then turns into a different setting.

* * *

It's nighttime, and they're somewhere that's obviously not Melbourne. Jake spots a familiar clock tower in the distance. "We're in London?"

Ezekiel nods. "Yeah. Stole enough to get a plane ticket over here. Took me a few years to do that and look old enough to fly alone, but..." He trails off with a shrug.

An older Jones comes into sight. He's around fourteen, and is dressed with slightly better clothes. They look like they've come out of the Salvation Army bin, though, and are still old. A sharp wind blows through the alley and Jones shivers. Jake finds, weirdly, that he doesn't feel a thing. He then realizes that, since it's a memory, nothing here can affect him.

It's oddly comforting.

Jones looks around the deserted alley, then ducks into a nearby doorway. He brings out a few tools from his pockets, and picks the lock without trouble. He reemerges from the house a few minutes later, stumbling backwards as a large, furious man looms over him. There's a bruise already growing on his face, and the way he's moving suggests cracked ribs.

Jones' pale face peers up at the larger man, and Ezekiel stares at his past self with a strange expression on his face.

If Jake had to guess, he'd say it's somewhere between anger and sadness, with a bit of disgust.

The man's yelling something- the words amount to "Good for nothing, hopeless little rat," but with many more curses thrown in.

Jones turns and flees.

* * *

 

The scene changes again, this time turning to the outside of a museum. Jones, around sixteen this time, slides out of the shadows near Ezekiel and Jake while staring at something in his hand with a tiny grin on his face.

It's an old Egyptian artifact. What, exactly, Jake can't tell, but his attention is drawn away from it when a large black van appears.

Jones' gaze shoots up and he turns to flee. Beside the Librarian, Ezekiel stiffens. A moment later, there's the unmistakable sound of a gun cocking and the boy freezes immediately.

A deep voice says, "Hands where we can see them."

Jones raises his hands, the artifact still in one of them. Two men step out from the shadows. One keeps a gun pointed at Jones while the other grabs the artifact and pockets it. The man with the gun nods to the other man, and he brings a small syringe from his pocket. After quickly inserting it into Jones' neck, he catches the younger man as he crumples.

Ezekiel looks like he wants to run.

Jake says, "Who were they?"

Ezekiel's gaze darts to the older man, like he had forgotten he was there. "MI6. This was the day they picked me up. I had gotten on their radar for some of the higher-difficulty thefts I pulled off, and they needed someone to steal some stuff for them."

The scene ripples and changes as they talk, and this time it's an older Jones, dressed in black cargo pants and a black t-shirt that is the focus of the scene. He's kneeling on the floor of the van that Jake and Ezekiel, and a few agents of MI6 are in, his hands cuffed behind his back and a bag over his head.

Jones' fingers begin to work subtly at the lock on the handcuffs, but a boot dug into his side puts that to a stop right away.

Ezekiel's breath hitches. Jake glances at the younger man, alarmed to see his features tighten in what seems to be pain. The older man nudges him. "You okay?"

Ezekiel shrugs. "It's a memory. Nothing here can hurt us. Not really."

 _Maybe not physically_ , Jake thinks.  _Mentally, though..._

He lets his thought trail away as the van slides to a stop. The bag is ripped off of Jones' head, and he stares at a man in his forties in confusion, and what might be betrayal. The boy's wild hair, mussed from the bag being ripped off of his head, makes him seem even younger than he really is. The man speaks. "We're cutting you loose. Tell anyone that MI6 recruited you, or what you've been doing for the past year and a half, and we'll make sure no one ever hears from you again. That is, if people don't put in the madhouse first."

With that, the men shove Jones out of the van, slamming the door shut and speeding off before the teen can even regain his feet. Jake finds that he and Ezekiel are both somehow outside of the van as well, standing by Jones as the young man removes the handcuffs from his wrist easily. Ezekiel mutters to himself, and Jake doesn't think he's supposed to catch the words, but he does.

"Doesn't hurt any less this time around." 

* * *

 

A few more scenes flash by, but these are familiar to Jake. They're times when the various Librarians- Jake included- have been in serious danger. Jenkins even makes an appearance a few times.

Perhaps most surprisingly, Ezekiel is never the one in danger.

When they reach the end of a memory from a few weeks ago, when Baird almost died saving them from a gryphon, the world fades to black and Jake loses consciousness.

* * *

When he comes to, he finds himself on the floor of the Annex. Ezekiel is crumpled underneath him, and, after a second, the younger man shoves at him. "Get off," he mumbles breathlessly. "Get _off_!"

Jake rolls off of the kid, climbing to his feet and helping the other man up. Jenkins, who has been in the Annex for who knows how long, clears his throat. "I presume you found the artifact?"

Jake's head whips around to stare at the older man. "How long were we out?"

Jenkins frowns. "Out? You two stumbled through the Back Door, collapsed on the floor for no more than three seconds, then got up."

Ezekiel's set the artifact they were sent to retrieve on Jenkins' desk. "Are you sure? I got hit by this light right as we were coming through, and then we saw-."

He breaks off abruptly, the same haunted expression from earlier crossing his face. Jake finishes the sentence. "We saw his memories."

Jenkins thinks for a moment, and then the slight confusion on his face clears. He sighs, and says, "Bright light, memories... Oh. It's a spell designed to make you relive your worst memories. Since you grabbed Mr. Jones right as the spell was taking effect, you were dragged along as an observer."

Neither man speaks, and, after a moment, Ezekiel turns- somewhat jerkily- and makes his way out of the Annex into the larger parts of the Library. He doesn't make a sound, and Jake is reminded of how he learned to move that way.

Bile rises in his throat.

He stares after the younger man, about to step forward when Jenkins lays a hand on his shoulder. "I would give him some time. Talk to him after a few hours."

Jake looks up at the Caretaker of the Library. "How much do you know?"

Jenkins sighs again, a weary expression on his face. "Enough."

* * *

After three hours have passed and Ezekiel hasn't been seen again, Jake decides that it's time.

He checks the normal hideouts of the younger man, looking in the most obscure corners of the Library and the Film Room, even going so far as to check the tops of the bookcases.

When he does find him, it's in the Astronomy Room, the night sky spread magically above him as the young man lies on the floor and gazes upward.

Jake takes a seat beside the Ezekiel.

They sit there, for a long time, without talking. Finally, Ezekiel breaks the silence. "What, no comment on how you're surprised I was able to make it to Librarian? About how pathetic my childhood was?"

The words are sneering and bitter, but Jake can't help but feel that Ezekiel's directing the words at himself instead of Jake. The older man shakes his head. "Nah, man. Just came in here to- I don't know, see if you were okay."

Ezekiel falls silent after a simple, "Oh."

Jake lets him stew for a minute or two, then tentatively says, "You know, if you do want to say anything, talk about it, whatever, I'm here, you're here, no one else is."

Another beat of silence passes, and then-

"I hated my dad."

Jake is silent, letting his friend talk. "I hated my dad and my mom walked out without taking me with her, even though she knew very well that he wasn't any better towards me. She was tired, I guess, of my dad not caring, and she'd been threatening to leave for a while. And when she did, she didn't even _look_ at me.

"And then- then I got that letter. It said I'd been invited to interview for a position at a library in America. I was so thrilled. And then I realized- kids like me didn't get offers like that. We're too big of mess-ups for anyone to want us around."

 _That's not you_ , Jake thinks. _That's your dad talking._

He remembers how, on the first day they met, they had been talking about the letters each had received ten years previous. He remembers the way Ezekiel's voice had been fiercely protesting that his had been a mistake.

Almost like he didn't want to believe it hadn't been.

Jake swallows, and keeps listening. Ezekiel's sitting up by now, his legs crossed and his fingers playing with a paper clip from who knows where as he talks. "So I left. I got out of there and lived on the streets for a couple years, and I got enough money for the cheapest flight out of Australia. To London.

"I lived there for a while, and I started stealing stuff. They got bigger and bigger. Because- I guess I thought that if I could just prove that I was the best, that I could take all the things I never had as a kid, then I would be happy.  And I thought that if the world wasn't going to give me what I wanted, then I could take it and this- this hole inside of me would stop growing.

"It never did, though. I got more and more bold, especially after I broke into a house one night and the guy living there told me exactly what he thought of me. I thought that if I could do something amazing, if I could prove to everyone that I was amazing, something would change."

Ezekiel falls silent again. Jake remembers all the times he and the other Librarians have rolled their eyes at the youngest's declarations that he was "awesome," or laughed when the younger man boasted of his skills.

It's more than he would like.

Ezekiel hunches in on himself as he continues. "Then, after I started stealing stuff from museums, I got on MI6's radar. They needed a master thief to steal things- military-type stuff- from other countries. They weren't expecting me to be so young, though," Ezekiel says with a bitter smile.

"I went along with it, and the guy they assigned as my handler- well, I thought he was the best person in the world. He didn't hit me when I messed up, just docked my rations or made me run laps around the base until I almost passed out. And I thought that he was an amazing person. I don't now, of course, but back then I basically hero-worshipped the guy."

Jake's fists clench. No kid should be that starved for affection that they think it's acceptable for someone to treat them like that. He forces his hands to relax as his friend continues his story.

"Then, after I got caught stealing from a local bank because the alarms were tripped by another thief that happened to choose the same bank the same night as I did, my handler said that he didn't have any knowledge of it. Which was a complete lie, by the way. My handler told me to do it, made it seem like it was a training exercise. I think that was when I lost faith in him. MI6 said that they'd let me live, since no one would believe that they had a kid working for them, and after that I just- I don't know. I drifted around until I met Flynn in a museum and he told me he could tell me why everyone was trying to kill me."

Ezekiel throws his arms out, narrowly avoiding hitting Jake. "And here we are, with you now knowing my past."

Jake rubs his hand across his face, trying to think of what to say. After a moment, Ezekiel lowers his arms, a strange look on his face. "Don't worry, I won't make you say it. I'll be gone in the morning."

Jake's head whips up. "Wait, what?"

The younger man looks at him, unsure. "You want me to leave, right? Now that you know what a messed-up person I am?"

Jake shakes his head. "No, man. Why would you think that?"

Ezekiel stares at him, his eyes wide and unsure. "But- no. This isn't funny, Stone. You can't- you can't just say you want me here and then in front of everyone else just-"

The kid's working himself into a panic attack, and Jake's starting to get worried. He lays a hand on the younger man's shoulder, and, when there's no negative reaction, he moves closer, pulling Ezekiel into his side. "No, I'm serious. No one here wants you gone, Ezekiel."

Ezekiel's breathing hitches. Jake keeps talking. "You are a member of this team, Jones. Like it or not, that means you're stuck with us. And yeah, you had a horrible childhood, but that doesn't mean you're a bad person. All that stuff that happened, those people that-" Jake wants to say, _that messed you up_ , but refrains. "That did those things to you, they were in the wrong. And yeah, you maybe should've, you know, not stolen stuff, but from what I can tell, you didn't have the greatest role models."

Jake falls silent, and Ezekiel's breathing seems to have evened out a bit. Suddenly, a disbelieving laugh from the man beside him startled Jake. "No one's ever said that to me before."

Jake rumbles, "That's because they were all idiots."

This time, a more genuine laugh sounds, and Ezekiel pulls away from Jake. They're still sitting shoulder to shoulder though, their arms brushing companionably.

There'll be time to talk about this more later, and, Jake thinks, they _will_ talk about it. It's not healthy for Ezekiel to bottle this all up forever.

For now, though, they look up at the stars magically projected on the ceiling and sit together in the comfortable silence of two people that know exactly what they are to each other.

Brothers.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope y'all enjoyed!
> 
> Shoot me a line to let me know your thoughts, or come over to hi-im-hawkeye.tumblr.com to yell at me about Ezekiel Jones, the Librarians, or other fandoms!


End file.
